It had been four months since I met the legendary Torro. Four months since she left through the door connecting the forest and manor, and she had not come back. It was as if she never existed. The garden, however, was proof that she did exist. The garden stayed the same, even as autumn came. As for the cherry tree, it still stood with a withering bunch of roses lying on its roots. It seemed that the magic did not extend to the tree.
The manor was also starting to look like its former self. I had managed to clean and redo all the rooms downside. Today, I planned to complete my exploration of the small room.
I began by removing all the portraits from the closest. They were all covered with dust, some even having lost some of their colour. Looking at each one, I found that most were family portraits of the noble family that lived here - the Le Rod family. A few were of single individuals.
As I went through each one carefully wiping the dust away, I found a portrait that made me stop in my tracks. It was a portrait of two women. The one sitting down was a beauty. Light bronze skin, rosy, red lips, deep green eyes, and black hair. She looked to be in her twenties, but there was a small glint of sadness in her eyes. As if she had suffered much.
However, it was not her that made the portrait interesting. Rather, it was the woman standing beside her with her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. It was the Torro herself, but without the scar on her face. Her head was looking straight ahead, but her eyes gazing at the other woman. She was smiling softly. Her face was clearly one of love.
A gold plating at the bottom of the portrait read “Rosabella and Fer.” I went through the portraits again and found another two portraits of the sitting woman in it. The first one was of her sitting alone. Under this portrait the gold plate read, “Rosabella”. That meant that the Torro’s name must really be Fer. Or at least how she was known back then.
In the other, she was with an older man and a little girl who looked like her. It was obvious that it was her husband and daughter. I felt the excitement course though my veins. I could smell the story. All the adventure, drama, love, and tragedy in it. The makings of an epic.
For some reason, looking at the portraits, I believed the mysterious woman named Rosabella was the answer to what happened to the Le Rod family. Maybe even the reason.
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